


Day 13-16: Adrenaline. Tear-stained. Scars. Pinned down.

by tbazzsnow (Artescapri)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Adrenaline, Angst, Baz and Simon POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars, Tear-stained, Whumptober 2019, pinned down, the night the Humdrum came to Hampshire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 14:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artescapri/pseuds/tbazzsnow
Summary: Simon and Baz the night the Humdrum came to Hampshire and gave Baz some of his 'nothing.' Written as part of the whumptober 2019 prompts. Took all four of these prompts and combined them into one ficlet.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Whumptober 2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541554
Comments: 3
Kudos: 82





	Day 13-16: Adrenaline. Tear-stained. Scars. Pinned down.

**Whumptober**

**Day 13: Adrenaline**

**Day 14: Tear-stained**

**Day 15: Scars**

**Day 16: Pinned down:**

* * *

**Simon**

Baz’s eyes are dilated and his fangs are spilling out over his lips. He should be terrifying but he’s not. Not to me. He looks more scared than I do.

I’m not frightened of him. I want to help him.

“Simon, I’m hungry. So hungry.”

“It’s alright, Baz. I’m here. It’s alright.” I take a step towards him.

He shakes his head, eyes closed, his hands clenched at his sides. “I’m hungry, Simon. Hungry.”

“Wicked,” the Humdrum interjects, looking back and forth between me and Baz. 

“You, shut up,” I shout at him—at me, eleven-year-old me (I can’t let myself think about that)—and I take a step closer to Baz. He backs away. He’s trembling, hands shaking with the effort of keeping them at his sides, I’m sure.

He’s hungry. For blood. For magic. For me.

This is the worst thing the Humdrum has ever done. Everything pales to this.

He took Baz’s magic.

Baz IS magic. There’s nothing the Humdrum can do to change that. Even if he has drained him dry. It doesn’t change anything.

My magic is thrumming through me, buzzing in my fingertips, blurring my edges. My hands are shaking, my breaths coming too fast, my heart pounding.

I’m sure Baz can feel it. My heart, beating.

“Let me help, Baz.”

“Get away, Simon. I’m hungry.” It comes out as a growl now. Baz is all eyes and teeth and desperation.

He rips a tree from the ground with his bare hands.

A part of me marvels at it. At the raw power of him. I’ve never seen Baz like this. Unleashed.

Not even the other night, when he was despairing and desolate, setting an entire forest on fire. 

This is what he’s had to hide. What he’s had to suppress every single day. His strength. His hunger. His isolation.

It breaks my heart to think that he’s struggled with this alone, with no direction, no knowledge, nothing but the strength of his own self-control.

Fuck. And all I did was goad him about it. Endlessly harassed him about the one thing that has fucked him up since childhood.

I feel like crying but I can’t. Baz is barreling across the clearing at me and I scramble into my fighting stance.

He hits me like a steel gryphon. I can’t match his strength but I know how to manage this. I catch him in my arms and drop us both to the ground.

He’s more powerful than I am but I’m full to the brim with magic, it’s spilling out of me, waves of it pushing to break free.

I roll him over, pin him to the ground, pressing my hands against his, making him wince when I scrape the scar on his burned hand with mine. I’m straddling him, crushing his wrists in my grip, not letting him move.

He may be stronger but I’ve got at least a stone on him.

And I’ve done this before.

“I’m so hungry, Simon. I’m so hungry and you’re so very full.” His voice cracks as he turns his head to the side, his face so pale, his fangs gleaming in the glow that’s still emanating from me.

I squeeze his wrists. “You can have it.”

He won’t meet my eyes.

“You can have it, you know I’ll give it to you.”

I take his chin in my hand and turn his face to me. Our eyes meet and I let it go—let my magic pour into him.

It’s not like it was before. There’s a void where Baz’s magic was. A vacuum and I’m filling it, pouring it in, letting it flow out of me.

Baz goes limp, his body sagging into the dirt, no fight left in him. His eyes close and I can see the tears leaking from the corners. They catch the light, gleaming against his pale skin.

I don’t stop.

I don’t stop pouring the magic into him.

**Baz**

It’s fire. It’s lava. It’s a pure molten blaze that lights up my veins, sweeps through my body, heats every part of me.

It fills the void.

It smells like smoke and brown butter and bacon.

It smells like Simon.

I can feel every pulse of his heart. Feel the blood pounding through his veins, the adrenaline that’s spiking his heart rate, speeding up his breaths, dilating his pupils until there’s only a rim of blue left in his eyes.

I’m awash in the blaze of his magic. Drunk on it. Dazed and dizzy.

All I can see is Simon. He’s too bright to look at. He’s radiating light and warmth and magic.

He fills my senses.

The sight, the smell, the sound, the touch, the taste of him.

The taste. I can taste the smoke on my lips, the smolder of it on my tongue.

It’s too much.

It’s leaking out of me.

I can’t hold so much.

I grab his arm. “Enough!”

I squeeze, fingers digging into his flesh. “Enough, Simon. It’s enough.”

He rolls off of me and the magic recedes. I can feel it ebb away, pulse by pulse, but it still echoes through me, settling into every pore, into my very bones.

It’s a blaze that’s washed through every part of me.

I feel scalded.

I feel clean.


End file.
